Chapter Twenty-nine

No formal reconciliation ended this time of discomfort. Guests came to

the house, and Bert addressed his wife with some faint spontaneity, and

Nancy eagerly answered him. They never alluded to the quarrel; it might

have been better if they had argued and cried and laughed away the

pain, in the old way.

But they needed each other less now, and life was too full to be

checked by a few moments of misunderstanding. Nancy learned to keep

absolutely silent when Bert was launched upon one of his favourite

tirades against her extravagance; perhaps the most maddening attitude

she could have assumed. She would listen politely, her eyes wandering,

her thoughts quite as obviously astray.

"But a lot you care!" Bert would finish angrily, "You go on and on,

it's charge and charge and charge--SOMEBODY'LL pay for it all! You've

got to do as the other women do, no matter how crazy it is! I ask

you--I ask you honestly, do you know what our Landmann bill was last

month?"

"I've told you I didn't know, Bert," Nancy might answer patiently.

"Well, you ought to know!"

"I know this," Nancy sometimes said gently, "that you are not yourself

to-day; you've been eating too much, drinking too much, and going too

hard. You can't do it, Bert, you aren't made that way. ..."

Then it was Bert's turn to be icily silent, under the pleasant, even

tones of his wife's voice. Sometimes he desperately planned to break

the rule of hospitality, to frighten Nancy by letting guests and

neighbours see that something was wrong with the Bradleys. But he never

had courage enough, it always seemed simpler and wiser to keep the

surface smooth. Nancy, on her part, saw that there was nothing to gain

by a break of any sort. Bert was not the type to be intimidated by

sulks and silences, and more definite steps might quickly carry the

situation out of her hands. The present with Bert was difficult, but a

future that did not include him was simply unthinkable. No, a woman who

had four young children to consider had no redress; she could only

endure. Nancy liked the martyr role, and frequently had cause, or

imagined she had cause, for assuming it.

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